I am Afraid of That

Two Friday’s ago I did something that I hadn’t done in 9 years, and before that it had been 10 years prior, I got into an airplane with an instructor, took the controls and left mother earth for a little while.
On the surface this in and of itself is not so unusual or significant, happens every day all over the world, but I have a history with it, and it is a big deal, to me. On February 2, 1992 I took my first flight lesson in a Cessna 152 at a little airport way out west commonly known as Honolulu International (HNL), you might have heard of it. I had two things against me from the start, one was the cost, a Navy airman does not make enough money to fly very often, two I had a fear of flying. I had the notion that learning to fly would help me overcome this fear. My training progressed very slowly, I could only fly once or twice a month due to the cost. On December 1st, 1992 I had my first solo after accumulating 17.3 hours of instruction over 10 months. During the month of December I flew 7 different days. One of these days included a dual cross country which in Hawaii involves island hopping with flight following and tons of radio work. This was on the 9th we flew from Honolulu International (HNL) to Lanai (LNY) to Molokai (MKK) and back. As we were circling Molokai to slide into the pattern for landing at the airport, we got a surprise that would rack me for years. There are shear cliffs jutting up several hundred feet on the coast, as we came in they were on my left, the off shore trade winds were blowing into then straight up the cliff face. A gust of wind caught the left wing from below and pushed it straight up and then some. At almost pattern altitude there wasn’t much room for recovery, but my instructor grabbed the wheel and with both of us standing on the rudder and turning ailerons to level, it finally came back to level. I swear we were all but upside down at maybe 1500 feet. My instructor saved us, shaken and stirred I landed at Lanai for a few minutes then we headed home. I don’t recall much about the trip back to Oahu. My logbook says I got back in the plane 9 days later and did 1.8 hours of solo time practicing landings, I’m sure I figured getting back on the horse was the cure what ailed me. That was the last entry until 2003 when I had two intro flights with 2 different instructors, as I recall both were young and obnoxious, I didn’t return. Total logged time, 29.0 hours.
My flight  Friday was one of those things most people would equate to letting a snake bite you if you were deathly afraid of snakes or taking scuba lessons knowing you were afraid of water and couldn’t swim. I got back into an airplane. A well used but functional Piper Warrior N43181. The flight was as bad as I made it out to be, bumpy, choppy air, what was no more than light to moderate turbulence, to me was a knife in the gut every 30 seconds for 40 minutes in the air. After 15 minutes in the air I was still flying on the same heading as the runway, I hadn’t even tipped the wings. My eyes rarely left the gauges, I was so fixated on maintaining altitude and airspeed nothing else mattered. I finally got us turned 90 degrees to the left then after a few minutes another 90 degree turn to the left and I told Micki the instructor I’d had enough and we flew straight back to the airport. We made a beautiful grass strip landing any carrier pilot would be proud of, straight down, slam it on, hope it sticks… it did, we made it back. I still had my breakfast.
My kudos to Micki Shetterly CFII, I think we broke the ice. My next flight is Tuesday morning. Maybe it won’t take 17 flight hours and 10 months to solo this time.

Finding Peace

It was 9am and 80 degrees, after a rough day yesterday, an unhappy client that I could not appease and couldn’t get out of my mind. Failures are not taken lightly. You can’t please everybody all the time, although it’s in my nature to try, unreal expectations will breed dissatisfaction every time. I needed to go for a scooter ride, do a little reflecting and get things back in perspective.
The lake three miles from my home is a perfect destination. Twenty acres, professionally manicured grounds maintained by the county, pristinely manicured walking paths, clean shaded park benches, summer flowers in full bloom, peaceful and quiet. Quiet is relative… crickets, locusts, birds, an airplane, a lawn mower, a tractor, roofers at work a long way off, not a breath of wind. When its quiet on the prairie sound travels.
As I sit here and listen to nature’s song, the sounds get louder and louder and louder as my mind becomes at peace with the world around me.


A little ride goes a long way.

Morning Rush

The cars fly by like ants on a mission, the sun trying to rise behind a peripheral pillow of clouds. Destinations intent on securing a piece of the dream; shelter, sustenance and the opportunity to choose a box or a jar in the end. The journey is lost, the focus has become the prize. Society says “you must conform” or else you’re not like us. Since time began there was someone who wanted to make rules for others to follow, who put them in charge, who put you in charge? I think I’ll be in charge for a while, take a left at the next light.

A Business Trip

Today I needed to find the location of a building I’m doing a bid on tomorrow morning up in Lenexa. A perfect excuse to take the scooter for a ride. Avoiding the interstate, my route took me by Oak Park Mall in Overland Park, where one of my favorite stops is, Barnes & Nobel. I made the 15 mile or so journey up to the business park I was looking for, then made my way back to the mall. I have a Nook Color and do a bit of reading, at B&N you can read any e-book they have for free (on your Nook) as long as you are in range of the store’s Wi-Fi.  Every once in a while I’ll spend a few hours there reading a new best seller and sucking on a Mocha Frappachino. I could have spent a few more hours there, but honestly, it was so cold in there it ran me out.
One of the great trials of going to the mall is always the parking, well I must say the Piaggio Fly 150 solved that issue, we found a perfect spot. It sat there for over 3 hours, unmolested by the mall cops and passersby. I filled up the tank for the second time, I was on about 1/8th of a tank and it cost exactly $4.50 to fill it up with premium grade. I wrote the mileage down so next time I fill it I can see how its doing.
I did see two scooters today, a light blue Vespa just 1/2 mile from home and a mustard color Honda Metropolitan for sale at a local car dealer. Was a great day to work on my sun burn.

The Little Fly 150 that Could

After a full day’s work and a huge dinner, a nice ride in the suburbs was in order. The temps are down to the low 80’s, quite a difference from the 100’s we’ve had for the last 2 weeks. It was such a perfect evening for a putt around. A guy driving an original model A convertible waved at me, I saw a huge baby blue 60’s convertible Cadillac, and another scooter, could have been a Genuine Buddy, didn’t get a real close look. Even stopped to watch a couple of hot air balloons for a few minutes. Ah the easy life.

Buzzed around the little airport we have here in town, no better place to snap a couple photos of the Fly 150 than at the airport.

Back in the Wind – sort of

I bought a scooter last weekend, its not the same as the two Harley’s I sold several years ago but its good to feel the breeze in my face again. I’d forgotten how calm and totally relaxed two wheels makes me feel. I’ve put close to 100,000 miles on two wheels through my lifetime, today was like going home.  Its a little scooter, an Italian made Piaggio Fly 150, has all the same engine and transmission as it famous cousin the Vespa. It doesn’t have the heavy loud thump thump of the massive V-twin I’m used to, instead it has a quiet buzz to it. An automatic transmission is something different, just twist and shout. It won’t do 100+ like some of my Harley’s did, but I got it up to 65mph going downhill. I’m not convinced the speedometer is accurate.

My face is so sun burnt, but who cares.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is nearing so I had lunch with my dad today then went to shop for a hat for him to wear.  I had to laugh, it was almost sad for me, an associate at Cabela’s thought we might be brothers. Mr. grey beard was enjoying the weekend; poking out about 3 days worth; my odd 3 on 3 off rotation allows the occasional scruffiness. I had grey hair at an early age, it runs in the family, I did the semi-dye thing for many years but finally decided to give the a ’natural look a chance about 6 months ago. After this experience I’m thinking I might reevaluate my decision. Dad on the other hand wears his white hair without a care in the world. He has always given me his opinion on whatever it was I was doing in life, jobs, family, business, finance or leisure; whether I wanted it or not. Looking back he’s been right 100% of the time, give or take 1%. He’s been very generous through the years and I have learned to heed his advice, its has served me well.

So, Happy Fathers Day Dad, and thanks for all you’ve done.